


A Little Treat

by RogerTaylorCanRawMe (orphan_account)



Series: Roger Taylor fics and one-shots [27]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Feedee!Roger, Feeder!Reader, Feeding, Gen, M/M, Weight Gain, late 80's / early 90's roger, this is a little different so please don't shame me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/RogerTaylorCanRawMe
Summary: Roger's been packing on the pounds since Queen stopped touring, and he's never looked better. So you decide he deserves a little treat.





	A Little Treat

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE DON'T SHAME ME... I fell down a rabbit hole on 'feedermercury's tumblr, and I thought it was kinda hot. So I've essentially combined that with my existing daddy!Roger kink and voila! Who wouldn't love a slightly pudgy Roger? Let me know if you enjoy it... and you'd like to read more. I'm open to reversing the roles too!
> 
> Sorry for the fleeting update - I'm so busy, I'm broke and I'm applying for a buttload of new jobs. I haven't really been inspired to write, so this garbage is what came out. If you need me, you can find me on tumblr under 'samerulesapplydarling'.

You thanked your lucky stars that you and Roger had met just as Queen’s touring schedule began to wind down for good. Playing shows every day for years on end kept him lean, but the sudden transition into his new lifestyle meant that the pounds on the scale crept up.   
“I really should give dessert a miss,” Roger groaned, patting his tummy. As he leaned back into his chair, the buttons on his crisp white shirt strained against the enormous mound, threatening to pop open at any second, slivers of pale skin peeked deliciously through the gaps.  
You shuffled on your chair, crossing your legs. “Oh, live a little, Roger.”  
“Are you getting anything?” he asked. His dusty blue eyes peered out from beneath his lashes. They darted from you, down to his gut. He watched as his hand massaged circles over it, bowing his head. Gone was the razor sharp jawline he once wore. Now it was buried under a pillowy cushion.  
“I’m absolutely stuffed,” you said, biting your lip.  
Roger shot a glance at the menu between you. “I really should lay off these.”  
Before Roger could heave himself forwards you snatched the menu from his grasp. To the sound of one of his buttons landing in your empty wine glass.   
A look of panic spread across Roger’s face as his hand shot to the widening gap in his shirt. “Fuck,” he cursed, his round cheeks turning rosier and rosier. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom to see if anyone’s left a spare tie in there. I think we should go after that.”  
“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll get the bill.”  
You watched as Roger moved as fast as his stocky legs could carry him, towards the bathroom. Then when he was out of sight, you opened up the dessert menu. Créme brulée. Bannoffee pie. Cakes of all colours and flavours and every sundae you could imagine. You smiled, imagining Roger’s reaction if you ordered all of these just for him. You knew how much he loved pudding.  
A waiter hovered near your shoulder and cleared his throat, ripping you away from that fantasy. “Is there anything I can get you?”  
Faced with a choice between getting the bill, and watching as Roger gorged himself, you thought for a moment. “Yes.”  
“What will we be having?”  
“We’ll take a little slice of everything… to share.”  
“Very well,” the waiter said with a smile.  
He disappeared as soon as Roger reappeared.  
A cheap tie hung around Roger’s neck. Of course it did nothing to disguise the gaping hole in Roger’s shirt. His eyes shifted around the room as he returned to the table, throwing himself down with a grunt. “Did you get the bill?” he sighed, his shoulders rising and falling.  
“We’ll be home soon enough,” you reassured him. “I can’t wait to get you out of that shirt.”  
Roger rolled his eyes.   
“What?” you asked.  
“I’ve really let myself go.”  
“I think you look incredible,” you smiled. “A little bit of pudge does wonders for you.”  
“A little bit? Are you joking?” Roger turned around in his chair, searching for the waiter, growing more antsy by the second.  
The creaking of a set of wheels crept up behind you, filling you with excitement.   
Roger turned back to find a trolley full of desserts being unloaded on to the table in front of him. His eyes widened. “What’s this?”  
“I thought you deserved a little treat.”  
Roger bit his lip, eyeing the sea of cake and pudding in front of him.   
“Look, they’ve even got your favourite,” you cooed, spooning some banoffee pie on to a fork and holding it up to his mouth.   
He licked his lips, trying desperately to resist. And then, he gingerly took the bite.  
“Good. We’re not leaving until you’ve popped another button for me.”  
Roger’s cheeks were now scarlet; it complemented the sheepish look in his eye.  
“It’s one less to get through when we get home. Plus I want you nice and full for later.”


End file.
